


Touch Me I'm Going to Scream

by hailmaries



Series: Dimi/Leth Porn Series [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Altar Sex, Blasphemy, Choking, Dimitri blasphemes the saints in this one, F/M, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Forced Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Misogyny, Power Play, Rough Sex, Throne Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22369891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailmaries/pseuds/hailmaries
Summary: Byleth knew Dimitri wasn't very religious. What she didn't know of was the extent of his irreverence. Even she was surprised.Altar/throne sex and power play in this one. Pretty blasphemous, if you're into that thing.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Dimi/Leth Porn Series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535282
Comments: 11
Kudos: 129





	Touch Me I'm Going to Scream

**Author's Note:**

> hello all!!!
> 
> i am.....so fucking sorry...this chapter is coming out MONTHS LATER. seriously, what the fuck, me?
> 
> yes!! here it is!! i had a run-in with my old friend, Writer's Block, and he showed me all the wonders of procrastination. lovely! what a good friend!!
> 
> all the apologies in the world are not enough to repent
> 
> title of the song by my morning jacket

After many weeks of correspondence, Rodrigue Achille Frauldarius had arrived. His arrival was much too covert for Byleth’s liking. Rodrigue showed up in the dead of night, far ahead of his retainers and attendants. It was the safest route, of course, but it still put a sour taste in Byleth’s mouth.

It had been a rough morning, with herself waking up well into the afternoon. She ran into Felix first, who had been insisting that, no, he wasn’t trying to hide from his father. Byleth knew he was afraid, and that fear manifested into shame. The battle was not for a few weeks, that of which she assured Felix. His fears would not come to fruition.

Though it had been a rough morning of running errands and quelling the despair of a particular swordsman, the sunlight quickly fell as she found herself in the grand cathedral. Byleth looked up to the grand throne of the Archbishop. Rhea should have been sitting there, preaching to Seiros’s faithful.

Instead, she was being held captive by the Empire.

Abso-fucking-lutely wonderful, Byleth thought.

Rubble encircled the altar, like some sort of divine preservation. As the cathedral came under assault and fell into disrepair, Rhea’s seat stood immaculate. 

Byleth’s mind wandered as moonlight filtered in through the massive hole in the roof. Winter was nearly upon them. Byleth pulled her jacket tighter subconsciously.

“I hardly believed I would find you here,” a voice spoke from behind her.

Turning around, Rodrigue’s battle-hardened visage eased her worries momentarily. “Rodrigue. Hello.” Her eyes wandered back to the throne. “It brings me a sort of comfort. I believe she will return.”

“That is a lovely sentiment, Professor.” Rodrigue paced ahead of her, he had something to say. Byleth knew the air all too well. “I spoke with Dimitri this evening.”

Byleth’s heart stopped, yet seemed to pick up its frantic pace all the same. How could the simple mention of his name nearly kill her? “Did you.” It was posed as a statement, rather than a question.

Rodrigue looked at her, his eyes softening with worry. “He is not the man I knew, not the man I considered a son.”

“He’s changed.” Simple. Untelling.

“So it seems.” Rodrigue looked about her, but not directly at her. “Tell me, Professor. What caused this violence within him?”

Byleth’s eyebrows knitted themselves together. “Edelgard, I assume. He is...hell-bent on her demise.”

“It would seem he will stop at nothing to have her head.”

“I believe you are correct.”

Silence fell around them. Rodrigue chuckled under his breath a moment later. “Don’t think me daft, Professor. I know when someone is concealing the truth.”

Byleth brought her teeth down on her bottom lip, biting down ever so slightly. It was a nervous gesture, of course. “When I returned, last year--” She looked up, gesturing around her. “He was right here. Dimitri told me he knew I would be back to haunt him as if I had died.” She looked at Rodrigue, noticing the fatherly way he looked at her. Byleth shivered.

“I knew he was battling demons, but I was unsure of the kind.” Rodrigue took one final look at the altar before returning his gaze to Byleth. “Thank you, Professor. This talk was...enlightening.” He bowed his head slightly before turning and walking off. The heels of his boots clicked on the marble floor as he took his leave. Byleth let out a shuddering breath she did not realize she was holding in.

She turned around, her back to the altar. She wanted--no,  _ needed _ \--to leave. A feeling of intense dread took over as she caught a flash of royal blue from behind a pillar. Dimitri rounded the dais, strolling casually up to Byleth. “Gossiping about me, were you?”

Fear lit her nerves on fire “Dimitri, I--” He had heard everything they spoke of, but that wasn’t what put Byleth into a state of panic.

She heard nothing. Felt nothing. Either he had been there for a long while--which would imply he had been following her--or he simply used stealth tactics to unknowingly join their conversation. She didn’t know what made her more afraid.

He put a hand up to silence her. “No need to explain. I expect talk. It is only natural for someone so bloodthirsty as I.” Dimitri ran a hand across her cheek. Byleth became acutely aware of the drag of his fingernails. “So fair. Your skin is like porcelain, how I’d love to ruin it.”

Byleth swallowed hard, her eyes instinctively closing. He was going to hit her, slap her, choke her--anything he felt like. Byleth found herself unable to predict his actions as of late. Every time she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability, Dimitri took full advantage. Not that she minded, of course, it was just that…

Dimitri looked up to the throne, as Byleth was a moment ago. “They say the Saints walk among us. Tell me, Professor, do you share that sentiment?”

Byleth opened her mouth to speak but found herself speechless.

Dimitri looked down without moving his head, a startling gesture. “I, for one, do not.” As Byleth looked away, she felt a hand wrap around her throat. Not--not squeezing. Just...resting. Her eyes darted to look into his. “The Saints are long gone. They all died screaming,” he deadpanned.

“Dimitri!” Byleth hissed under her breath. She was, by no means, a believer, but such blasphemy felt...morally wrong.

“They say Cethleann had green hair. It got me thinking, Professor.” He looked down at her, his head cocked back. It was the move of superiority, and Byleth knew what was to come. “When you came back from that void, did you see Her?”

“See...who?”

“Cethleann. Seiros.” Dimitri’s hand trailed up to her chin and he ran his thumb across her lips, parting them slightly. “Anyone, really.”

Byleth swallowed hard as she lied. “I saw no one.”

Dimitri threw his head back with a laugh, a deep bellow that sent fear radiating through her bones. “That’s right. You should be praising me, praising  _ my _ name. I have seen the throne of the Saints.” Byleth noted the look in his eyes. There was a sort of darkness she never imagined could be possible. And yet, here it was, personified. Rage made flesh. “And it was  _ empty _ .”

Byleth breathed in sharply, cutting through the otherwise silent cathedral. Words failed her at that moment. She was unsure if she had nothing to say or her shock was much too great for words to express. The air around them grew cold and still as the wind slackened, as if unwilling to blow without his permission.

Dimitri leaned in, his lips brushing the tip of her ear. He spoke uncharacteristically soft, yet his request was anything but. “I want you up on that altar, now.” His sharp stubble scraped her cheek as he moved. "Strip, and sit upon the throne."

Byleth could have laughed. The king of Faerghus was asking her to commit blasphemy for his pleasure. Though, she supposed, kings have been doing just that since the beginning of time. Still--

“If anyone were to find us--”

“I’d cut them down before they could utter a sound,” Dimitri said grimly. He was quite serious, and Byleth knew not to question or get in the way.

As she hiked over the crumbling pile of rocks and marble, her situation felt wholly unreal. This must be a dream, though disappointment nearly always came soon after.

Dimitri followed closely behind, only trailing ahead of her when they reached the top of the destroyed dais. His hand lightly brushed the dust off the velvet seat. The chair was pristine under the years of dust and soot.

Without a moment’s notice, Dimitri went to work on disrobing Byleth. His hands were still as he divested Byleth of her uniform, the buttons popping off but not breaking. Byleth thought back on their last escapade; he had been so uncaring with her attire, snapping buttons off and tearing fabric. She wondered if he had been practicing.

With whom?

Jealousy shot through her like an arrow. The feeling was commonplace following her return and subsequent intimacy. She had no right to be emotionally invested in a lost man, but the teacher in her couldn’t let anything tarnish that image of Dimitri.

The moment her shorts came off, Dimitri was already ushering her to sit on the throne. She became cognizant of just how  _ vulnerable _ being there was. The velvet was plush under her thighs and a certain sense of desecration filled her body.

“Touch yourself for me,” Dimitri instructed.

Byleth spread her legs mindlessly and touched her cunt, feeling the heat emanating from within. Just a fingertip brush was enough to make her gasp. Dimitri palmed the growing tent in his trousers with a groan. "Just like that. So fucking lovely.” Byleth did not stop to consider, for even a moment, the predicament she was in. Lust clouded her judgment.

“Dimitri, I--ah,” Byleth whined, fingers ebbing and flowing out of her entrance. Byleth set her foot upon the golden arm. Her hand went to her mouth, delicately nipping at her fingertips as her other hand worked its gods-given magic.

The King took her hand away from her essence, choosing to fall to his knees, replacing her fingers with his tongue. Byleth writhed in surprise and pleasure, gasping as his tongue explored her depths.

Her hands instinctually found purchase in his hair, drawing the strands within her fingers, unsure of whether or not to drive his head away or pull it closer. Worship--it was the closest word Byleth knew to describe how Dimitri was treating her. It was absolutely breathtaking. She brought her hand to her mouth once more, this time in an attempt to silence herself. The cathedral echoed every gasp she uttered.

Before she could reach that pivotal peak, Dimitri pulled his head away and stood. She whined at the loss.

Dimitri took the hand from her mouth, gripping it lightly. The care with which he touched her was startling, and it all but made Byleth weepy with the “what could have been”s. He never took his eyes off Byleth as he brought her to her shaky feet and took her place on the golden throne. “Tell me, Professor.” He sat back pompously, spreading his legs far wider than was necessary. “If Rhea were here, would she strike us down?”

She swallowed hard before speaking. “It is far more likely Seteth find us than Rhea, Your Highness.”

His jaw tensed, his mouth in a terse line. “I don’t believe I  _ asked  _ about Seteth.”

Byleth’s eyes narrowed, handing his indignation right back to him on a silver platter. “Rhea would murder us herself if she could.” Byleth let a small smile tilt the corners of her lips upward. “Though she would prefer to put her servants to task. She is a spiteful bitch.”

Dimitri’s eyes widened in surprise, then settled back with a smirk. “Such a filthy mouth. We will have to do something about that.” His hands went to his trousers, popping the button and taking out his half-hard cock. Dimitri spat onto his palm and stroked himself yet never breaking eye contact.

Either by muscle memory or some sort of subconscious desire, Byleth lowered onto her knees on the rubble. She winced before welcoming the head of Dimitri’s cock into her mouth.

He groaned low in his throat. “Even the most prudent of women can be brought to subservience with the right...pressure.”

Byleth pulled off of Dimitri’s cock, running the flat of her tongue up the shaft. “Let us not talk about Rhea. Focus,” a kiss to the flesh of his inner thigh, “on me.”

Dimitri’s hand went to her head, lightly caressing her hair. “When I return to Fhirdiad, I may just bring you along. You’d make a lovely concubine,” Dimitri groaned, spurring her on. “I’d have you on my lap at court. Sucking my cock under the war table. Gods...” She wouldn’t say she appreciated the comments, but it painted an explicit picture in her mind, one that she couldn’t deny spurred her on.

Byleth wanted to give him the same treatment, denying him the luxury of finishing in her mouth. Perhaps it was cruel to wait until he was attempting to fuck her mouth to pull off of him. He growled, like some sort of feral animal.

Byleth felt like laughing.

With one swift motion, Dimitri hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her onto his lap. Feeling his hardness under her thigh, she ground her hips into him, toying. She had been enjoying this far more than she ought to have been. 

Pirouetting her hips, the thick head of Dimitri’s cock brushed against her entrance, accommodating him. With a pivot, his cock was fully sheathed inside of her, and Byleth could scarcely believe the ease of it.

Trying desperately to convince herself that, no, she was not dying, Byleth stood slightly, allowing herself to fall back down onto his cock.

Byleth did not know how much time had passed. She did not know when Dimitri started teasing her nipples, or when she started fucking herself down onto his cock. Perhaps her craven nature had dissipated with time.

With a groan, Dimitri halted his thrusts. As he came inside of her, Byleth briefly remembered Dorothea’s conversation about contraceptive plants. Perhaps her immaculate birth had kept her safe from the plague of pregnancy thus far. She was in no mind to contemplate the specifics, however, as the thought of the risk brought her over the edge. Dimitri reached around to her sensitive bundle of nerves, kneading it with two fingers, increasing the intensity of her orgasm. Byleth dug her nails into his thighs.

As she came down from her captivating highs, a flash of light caught her eye. Looking down through lust-lidded eyes, she saw the blue hilt of a gold-pommeled dagger beside Dimitri’s discarded cloak.

Byleth liked to believe she understood Dimitri. She had been proven wrong time and time again, however.

The same fear that gripped her every time he spoke seized her.

She did not understand Dimitri.

**Author's Note:**

> probably one or two more chapters before the inevitable end of our mains!!
> 
> please leave a slightly passive-aggressive concerning my lack of updates, and please let me know what you think!!
> 
> i love you all!!
> 
> (hang out w me on twitter @hailmaries !!)


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